


Illusion is the first of all pleasures.

by moriartyismyking



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Crack, Domestic, Gen, sebastian moran does not exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriartyismyking/pseuds/moriartyismyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was talking nonsense to my friend (tumblr's pinxtonia13) and accidentally prompted myself this: There is no such person as Sebastian Moran. Jim has a laser pen he casts against the wall and talks to the dot, which he has nicknamed Seb, while he's cooking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusion is the first of all pleasures.

**Author's Note:**

> Title care of Oscar Wilde.

It was fast becoming Jim's favourite part of the day, an all too rare opportunity to kick back and relax with his most trusted friend. He loosened his tie whilst simultaneously toeing his shoes off before padding through to the kitchen and lighting the gas hob.

"Pasta alright with you Seb?" The criminal called as he filled the pan with water, "I feel like carbs tonight, it's been one of those days. I've had to put up with the sexual advances of the most vile man in existence."

He placed the pan onto the hob before pausing, listening for movement within the flat but heard none, "... 'Bastian?'

Jim pulled the laser pen out of his pocket and depressed the button, casting a familiar red dot onto the kitchen wall.

"Oh there you are, Sebbie," he smiled, obviously relieved to see his companion before his eyes narrowed, turning suspicious, "You're very quiet tonight what on earth is the matter with you?"

Jim retrieved the shallots and a garlic clove from the vegetable rack and began to prepare them, holding the laser pen between his first and index fingers as he did so. The dot flitted madly across the kitchen tiles, causing Jim to smile grimly.

The criminal grinned, "Well why didn't you just say so? You don't have to put on an act for my benefit you know." The criminal set aside the chopping board and placed a frying pan on the gas ring next to the pasta, adding a knob of butter, "I'm not like the rest of them." He whispered conspiratorially and laughed at his own joke.

"Don't you just love Italian food, Sebbie?" The red dot bounced up and down on the wall enthusiastically and Jim smiled in agreement, "It's simply divine."

Jim added the items from the chopping board into the pan before setting about beating the eggs, "Don't be such a philistine," He chastised the dot, "Good food is worth the wait and over my dead body are we eating anything that comes out of a packet and goes straight into the microwave." His lips twisted into a smile as 'Seb' circled the aforementioned appliance, "Well that's true enough. Why do you think I never let you cook? Stick to what you're good at, Sebbie, hm?"

The eggs were next into the pan, shortly followed by some parmesan. Jim slammed down the wooden spoon onto the counter as he realised his mistake and scowled, "You're so distracting, Sebastian. Look what you've made me do now! I've gone and added the eggs before the pasta's even cooked," he let out a put upon sigh, "I suppose I can forgive you just this once seeing as it's you."

Seb slumped to the worktop, creeping closer to the bubbling pan of pasta by way of apology.

"No, don't touch it! Remember what happened last time? It doesn't bear thinking about now out, go on shoo."

Jim tossed the laser pen through the kitchen door and onto the leather recliner in the living room before he drained the pasta and adding it to the sauce in the pan. He plated up two portions and carried them through to the living room with a self satisfied smirk, "Ta da." He set the plates down, one onto each arm of the recliner and switched Seb back on, watching as the red dot explored the food, causing the smirk to disappear rather abruptly from the criminal's face, "You know I don't like bacon. If you want bacon you learn how to bloody well cook yourself and then we'll have bacon!"

He flopped down into the arm chair sullenly, "Oh /do/ shut up, Sebastian," He muttered, stuffing the laser back into his pocket, "or I'll take out your batteries again."


End file.
